eight by ten (standard:Ghost stories, 557 words)
Author: george	Added: Nov 18 2010	Views/Reads: 3031/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
in the twilight of her years she sits waiting remembering and then

EIGHT BY TEN 

I don't really recall how I came to be here: My only memory is that of
cool linen sheets soft candlelight and whispers that seemed to invade 
every corner of the room. There was the warmth of a trembling hand and 
a smile but I recall sadness in the eyes. Then light bright welcoming 
and sound gentle lilting as if flowers dancing on the breeze then here 
I was. It is the strangest of sensations I see everything and yet go 
unobserved. I have no sensation of movement no sense of feeling and now 
as darkness gives way to dawn an arrival. Mary look at her in her thick 
cotton nightdress see how she trembles slightly with the cold, her toes 
seeking the reassurance of her well worn slippers. She looks older and 
more tired than I remember the light seems to have gone from her eyes. 
Now she fills the kettle her hand continues to tremble and then a match 
flares there is the faintest pop as bright blue flame erupts from the 
cooker. I hadn't noticed earlier but Toby the cat is purring at her 
ankles he had wondered into the house eleven years ago and had stayed 
ever since he had taken an instant dislike to Mary and only sheathed 
his claws when hunger gripped his belly. But Mary loved him as she did 
all animals. The whistle on the kettle is suddenly very distracting. 
Mary is removing it from the heat and stands for a moment warming her 
fingers close to the flame; she turns off the gas and reaches towards a 
shelf two white porcelain mugs sit as if waiting for an invitation. She 
seems lost in thought distracted but then eventually she removes one 
and places it on the work surface soon the mug is transformed as if 
alive it breathes steam as she stirs quietly with a spoon. The lid of 
the biscuit barrel resists her attempts to remove it but with one final 
effort it comes free exposing the contents. Mary selects a digestive 
picks up the mug and moves towards me she stops suddenly and with an 
effort born of age finally manages to sit down on one of the chairs 
next to the small table. I watch in silence as she breaks the biscuit 
into smaller pieces dunking it quickly into the still steaming tea 
until finally savouring the flavour. She sips from the mug carefully 
there is a small sigh with the realization that it is too hot. What is 
she doing now it's a ring she has removed a ring from a chain around 
her neck it seems to have taken forever but there was determination in 
her effort. Oh no I see tears unashamedly running down her cheeks she 
draws the ring nearer her sight not what it used to be. There are 
memories in her eyes she seems transformed, somehow younger the lines 
on her features smoother. What's happening she is turning has she seen 
me no that's not possible is it? wait she's reaching there's a smile on 
her face. She knows, the look in her eyes tells me she knows “Arthur I 
miss you” she carefully returned the eight by ten to its rightful place 
on the wall I don't really recall how I came to be here 


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